Fix Me
by Racey
Summary: Renji, the anti-social, very straight ex-con is jaded by his past; Gin, the very cunning, gay waiter/Interior Design student has learned to accept his. When the two meet, personalities clash and Gin tries to worm his way into a heart long ago turned to ice. AU, yaoi, swearing, violence.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

**So, it's happened. I've completely fallen for this pairing. Not to mention, I've always loved Renji, therefore I've decided to give him the respect he deserves in the form of his own story. I'm gonna elaborate on the personalities I used for these two in All Jokes Aside, so if some things sound familiar, it's done purposely. **

**Thank you, Junichiblue for beta reading this for me! I appreciate it very much! It's always nice to have a second pair of eyes catching something I've missed.  
**

**And lastly, this is for _cheesedictator_, who totally gave me the push I needed with their review to write this. Thank you, dear! **

**So...let's see how it goes, yeah? **

Onwards...

XOXOXO

It was a day like any other day of the past few months of his life. After his release from prison for beating the ever-loving shit out of his ex-girlfriend's side piece, he'd been forced to find a job that wouldn't consider him scum. Luckily, his old college friend, Shuuhei Hisagi, had helped. Shuuhei was the store manager at Rent-A-Center and had been gracious enough to give him a chance. Lord, knows he'd needed it. His parole officer – a short, dark-haired man with a boring voice – had been giving him a hard time, constantly piss-testing him and making sure he wasn't getting high. He'd never been into that sort of thing, though; he was more of a drinker. Notice he said "drinker" and not "drunkard." He limited himself to beer and only messed with the harder stuff when he was depressed, or just mad at the world.

Rukia had been his high school sweetheart. They'd been young and dumb and madly in love with each other – or so he'd thought. They'd gone to college together, but that was where he'd fucked up. It'd happened in their last year, right before graduation. He'd been doing well, excelling in his classes, outshining his peers on the basketball court, and he'd had a cute girlfriend to boot. Too bad, she hadn't been the loyal type. He'd come back from class early one afternoon and thought he'd stop and see Rukia before taking off to practice. So, oblivious to the pity-filled looks being sent his way, he'd sauntered to the girls' dorm and barged into his girlfriend's room. Damn, that'd been a mistake. He hadn't been ready to see the girl he'd loved so much, on her knees, being taken from behind by a man that wasn't him.

At first, he'd only stood there, staring and numb. Then white-hot rage had overwhelmed him, causing a stomach-deep roar to echo through the halls and probably the whole building. All he'd remembered was rushing into the room and hitting pale flesh until it tenderized beneath his fists, until blood covered his hands and face, and security had been escorting him from the dorm. After that, time had slowed down and allowed him to catch up. He remembered the court room, the dark-haired shit, who'd smugly pressed charges against him, and the useless lawyer, who'd felt he had better things to do with his time. The judge had been merciless and an asshole on top, even with Renji's squeaky clean background, hitting him with the maximum sentence as a lesson. Rukia'd been there, but she'd been on the other guy's side.

And with that, he'd spent the next three years of his life behind bars.

Now, at the age of twenty-four, he was an ex-convict and had to deal with being paroled for two more years, and that was only because he'd been let out on good behavior. Imagine that. Most people saw him these days and automatically labeled him a troublemaker, a ruffian, a thug, a hoodlum. It didn't help that the first thing he'd done upon leaving the prison was have his entire body tattooed. They started with his eyebrows, worked their way down the sides of his neck, across his chest, abdomen and back, down his arms, over his ass and thighs and even reached down his shins and calves. And he didn't regret a single one of them. His reason for doing so? He'd seen pictures of tribal tattoos and thought them symbolic of one's strength, wisdom and growth. On top of that, he'd wanted a change. While in prison, he hadn't been able to look himself in the cloudy mirror without wanting to gag with shame and repulsion. He'd hated himself. He'd hated the world.

But a few years of self-loathing had made him see the world for what it really was. Now, he didn't hate himself so much; he just hated other people.

Shuuhei had come as a nice surprise during a time in Renji's life, where he'd felt like he didn't have a friend in the world. He remembered playing basketball in college with the dark-haired man, remembered being on fairly good terms with him before the incident. Shuuhei hadn't been a bad guy then, and he wasn't one now. Renji had been walking the beat, searching high and low for a place that would hire him, just so he could get his parole officer off his ass, when he'd run across a store with a cheerful-looking, royal-blue, red and yellow sign announcing it as: Rent-A-Center.

He'd gone inside, already steeling himself for the rejection to come, but had been greeted by name, by a shocked tenor. Shuuhei had asked him all about what'd happened, and even though Renji hadn't wanted to explain or bring up his past, he had anyway. The dark-haired man had listened avidly, coal-colored eyes wide and amazed. Once Renji'd finished his tale, Shuuhei had immediately offered him a position at the store, excitedly exclaiming Renji could drive one of the delivery trucks, picking up and installing equipment. Of course, he'd been astonished, but more than that, he'd been grateful. He'd embraced the position without looking back, vowing never to see the inside of a prison again.

It hadn't taken him long to acquire a routine, which Shuuhei had aided by helping him find a one-bedroom apartment near his side of town. It wasn't bad, either. It had its own free washing and drying facilities in the basement, nice spacious rooms, and the landlord even allowed pets. Elated, he'd gone off immediately and bought a large tank, then filled it with tropical, colorful fish. He'd always wanted fish. Not so much dogs or cats, or anything else for that matter.

Yep, it was a very normal, very boring, very _cold_ day. The weather forecast predicted a snow storm later on that night, which, thankfully, he planned to pass inside his warm apartment with a couple of Clive Owen flicks. Shoot Em Up and a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows sounded absolutely perfect. Speaking of which, it was about time to clock out. He glanced down at the watch on his left wrist and nodded. 6:45. Yeah, but he'd have to get some grub after he finished up his shift before he could make good on his plans. He climbed to his feet from the carpeted floor he'd been kneeling on and dusted his hands. After that, he double-checked his work, making sure the flat-screen TV was hooked up correctly.

"Everything done?" a cheerful, female voice asked from behind.

Renji turned and faced the client with a slow nod. "It's all workin'."

She was cute. In fact, she was gorgeous. Long, wavy, sea-green hair, wide wheat-gray eyes, and a body that didn't seem to know how to behave. Her hips were curvy and absolutely made for gripping, and her legs were long and shapely. She had breasts that could feed an army of runts, and she smelled like a sultry fruit. It'd been an eternity since he'd gotten laid, but he knew better than to hit on one of the clients. ...Didn't mean he couldn't look, though.

"Do you take tips?" she asked.

He shook his head with a miniscule lift to the corner of his lips. "Nah, I ain't allowed ta take tips, Miss."

She giggled, eyes lighting up. "You don't have to call me 'Miss'. I'm not that old, you know. I'm Nel."

_Nel, huh?_ "Nice ta meet'cha, Nel. I better get goin'."

"Aww, can't you stay for a cup of coffee or something?"

He paused on his trip out of the living room and stared down at the full lips pouting up at him. _Shit_, he was only human. How was he supposed to turn down such a beautiful woman? It was obvious she was interested in him, _but..._he was positive sleeping with clients was somewhere in the list of no-no's Shuuhei had given him when he'd first started on the job.

Dammit all to hell.

"Sorry, Nel. No can do," he mumbled regretfully.

"Wait!" she yelped as he started moving again. "Why don't you take my number? I know you probably can't do anything during work, but maybe we can get together after your shift is over or something."

Wow. He'd never been that aggressively pursued before and it stroked the hell out of his ego. He didn't see the harm in her request, though. Inwardly he licked his lips as Nel drew closer, bringing that tantalizing scent with her. Finally, he nodded.

_You don't wanna hurt the girl's feelings_, the devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear with a no-good grin.

He was so jaded and bitter, he didn't even _have_ an angel to contend with the evil hovering over him all the time. It was just that sad. No one took the time to get to know him, no one really liked him for him, and he was pretty sure it would be the same with the green-haired woman asking him to take her number. Notice how she hadn't asked him to take her on a date. It seemed like she just wanted to fuck and be done with it. Not that that bothered him. What _did_, however, was that he knew she wouldn't take him seriously because of his appearance. People took one look at him and automatically assumed he was a gangster or a heathen. It was annoying as shit, but had its useful moments as well.

So, he did the logical, red-blooded, human male thing and accepted her number, which she wrote on the back of a receipt, forgotten at the bottom of his uniform breast pocket. Her resulting smile assured him they'd be having a good time the minute he decided to call her. And he would. Like he'd said: it'd been a really long time since he'd gone *balls deep.

He left Nel's house, sauntered down the stoop, hopped into the Rent-A-Center van, then peeled away from the curb. A few minutes later as he sat at a red light waiting for the heat to kick in, he tugged on a black, cable-knit hat and blew on his numb hands. Shit, it was cold. It was already *thirty degrees out, perfect weather for snow to stick to the ground and fuck up traffic. He wound through the after-work rush, taking short-cuts and back streets in order to make it to the RAC headquarters in a timely fashion. By the time Renji did, Shuuhei was ready to leave, office locked and registers shut down. He sat waiting on one of the display recliners, watching a Disney flick on a display flat-screen TV. When Renji strolled into the store, the dark head turned and dark eyes lit up.

"'Bout time ya brought yer sorry carcass back. I'm hungry and tired as hell. Wanna get some food from yer favorite spot?"

Renji grinned and nodded, leaning casually against the arm of a nearby display couch. "Yeah, I'm starvin' too. I take it since yer complainin', yer ready?"

Shuuhei grinned and lowered the footrest of the recliner before languidly climbing to his feet and stretching his arms over his head. Renji could hear the other man's bones and joints popping as they were shifted into place.

"Yeah, was just waitin' on you. I let Ichigo off early since he claimed he had a date." Renji frowned at the thinly veiled resentment leaking into Shuuhei's voice. He took a closer look at his friend and employer, searching for the root of what he'd heard, but the dark-haired man recovered before he could. The disappointed expression disappeared and Shuuhei's eyes were back to glittering with his usual amount of excitement and lust for life. "So, go punch out and let's go! I think my ribs are touchin', I'm so hungry."

Renji barely smirked as he nodded and headed to the employee lounge off to the left of the store room, located at the back of the display room. It took him less than three minutes to make the journey round-trip before he and Shuuhei left the store. Shuuhei locked up and trudged around the corner to the parking lot, where his silver Toyota Venza was parked patiently. Renji followed, fishing through his uniform pockets for his gloves, while also making sure his pack of cigarettes was nestled safely inside. He waited for the dark-haired man to unlock the car as he pulled on the warm, cashmere material.

"Earth to Renji!"

He jerked and glanced over the hood of the vehicle, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Ya said somethin'?"

Shuuhei rolled his eyes, but kept smiling. "Yeah, doofus. I asked what you were doing this weekend."

"I'own know. Prob'ly nothin'. Why?"

"I'm havin' a get-together at my place on Saturday. You should come; get outta the house, ya know? I invited Ichigo and a couple other people."

Renji averted his eyes and debated within himself. He wasn't a people person anymore. Those days were long past. He was much more comfortable staying inside, enjoying a movie, experimenting with new beers, or fixing things – namely cars. All he had to do was look at something for a few quiet minutes before he could figure out how to take it apart, then put it all back together, no instructions required. His father had called it genius, while his mom had called it creepy. They didn't call him _anything_ anymore, though, choosing rather to disown him after he'd screwed up his life and gone to prison.

"I'll think about it," he mumbled, not really committing himself to the idea of a party with a bunch of people he probably didn't know.

Shuuhei eyed him a bit longer before the car locks were thrown and they both jumped inside, eager for warmth. They were out of the parking lot and three blocks down the street before the dark-haired man spoke again.

"You know, you're gonna hafta come outta that shell sooner or later. People aren't going to see you for who you really are if you don't let them."

Made sense. But maybe he didn't want people to see the real him. Back in college he had, but after his experience with Rukia, after his stint in prison...yeah, he wasn't too fond of the idea anymore.

"Yer right," he absently grunted.

Shuuhei chuckled and shook his head. "You think I don't know when you're appeasing me?"

That made him smile. His friend was pretty perceptive when he wanted to be, but Renji wasn't about to let up on this one. He turned and focused out of the passenger window, startled to see fat snowflakes drifting through the air already. He supposed the storm would be on them not too long from now.

**XxxxxxX**

The small restaurant was named _Sentient Heaven_, and was owned by an eccentric, blond man with laughing gray eyes and his "partner," a tall brunet with rich brown eyes and black, wire-framed glasses. The blond was a little creepy with his constant enthusiasm and hint of mystery, but the brunet was all suave charm and underlying strength. It was an interesting mix. Renji had never been one to consider the option of homosexuality, but he didn't have anything against those that did. Seeing Urahara and Aizen's interaction was only mildly disturbing because Urahara had an affinity for PDA and always managed to take it overboard.

The place was a mixture of exciting yellow and warm brown, the lighting dim enough to give off mellow vibes. The booths held the perfect balance of intimacy and distance and the staff was excellent. Not only that, but the pricing was reasonable and the food was fucking delicious. Whoever worked in the kitchen created miracles.

He and Shuuhei were seated near the back and next to one of the restaurant's large windows. He didn't even need to look at the menu to know what he wanted. Today was Friday, which meant he would order the steak and shrimp scampi, with mashed potatoes and asparagus as sides. As he took off his gloves and hat, he looked around the restaurant, waiting for the owners to make their special appearance. Shuuhei happened to be the nephew of the brunet Aizen, so they always made it their business to come over and greet the two personally whenever Shuuhei tagged along with Renji.

Instead, he caught the gaze of a tall, very slender, silver-haired man standing at the bar a few feet away. He'd only ever seen him a handful of times since the man worked on the other side of the restaurant. The guy's eyes were a frosty blue, almost shocking amidst such a pale face. The silver hair and slight weight only added to the celestial look of him. He wore the uniform of a waiter: black slacks, white, long-sleeved, button-up shirt and black tie. Renji arched a brow at the man's stunned expression. It was almost like the thin man recognized him or something. Brushing it aside, Renji focused on the apricot-haired woman standing next to the silver-haired man, wearing an amused grin. Her eyes were almost the same color as the man's, but they weren't as piercing. She had a heart-shaped face, glowing skin and humongous knockers. It must've been his lucky day. This was the second woman he'd seen in twenty-four hours with boobs big enough to build a house on. She was beautiful alright, but for some reason his eyes kept going back to the man at her side. The guy's eyes were like magnets. And then the strange spell was broken by a cheerful tenor.

"Ahhh! If it isn't my wonderful nephew and his handsome red-haired friend!"

Renji turned to Urahara with a slight frown. He was still confused about why the silver-haired man had been staring at him, but figured he could think about it later.

"Hey, Uncle Kisuke," Shuuhei greeted. Renji merely raised his chin in acknowledgment.

"Silent as always. I've never heard you speak, Sir. Might there be a reason for that?" the blond pestered, hands on his hips.

Renji grinned, teeth showing and all as he toyed with the utensils wrapped in a thick handkerchief on the table in front of him. "I'm anti-social."

Shuuhei cracked up, but Urahara's eyes went wide. "Oh my," he muttered as his lover slash partner spoke up, brown hair impeccable as always.

Aizen adjusted his glasses and gave a charming smile. "Hello, Shuuhei. How are things?"

"Good! Mom asked about you last night. She says you don't call her since you got the restaurant."

The brunet tsk'ed and shook his head. "That's not true. I've told her to come here and eat several times."

Renji tuned out the ongoing conversation, ignored Urahara's staring and instead let his eyes roam the restaurant in search of silver hair and glacial blue eyes, utterly taken back when he noticed them coming towards his table.

XOXOXO

Advanced Commercial Design class flew by unnaturally fast that day, but Gin was grateful for it. He was almost finished attaining a degree in Interior Design and couldn't wait to put his unique sense of style to use. His best friend, Rangiku, always told him he'd had an eye for making wrong into right with the least bit of effort. Didn't matter if a place looked absolutely dreadful. He could turn it around after studying the layout for no more than ten minutes. After that, he'd decided to hone his talents and educate himself on the modern marvel of Interior Design. He was two and a half years in and on the brink of an internship, then graduation. Once he nabbed his degree, he planned to take his skills to either New York City or California.

And he was dragging his best friend – who was more like a sister – along with him. He didn't care if she put up more of a fight than Hitler, she was coming with him and keeping him sane. She was his rock in the midst of the storm called life. They'd been best friends since they were toddlers, Rangiku's mom a neighbor of Gin's inexperienced, single father. The woman had taken pity on his father and schooled him in the do's and don't's of parenting. He and Rangiku had become fast friends in the process.

In Elementary, middle school, junior high and high school, they'd been known as a dynamic duo. In high school, most of the teens had called them Will and Grace and the names even stuck to this day, with his father referring to Rangiku as Grace. In short, they were inseparable and just because he planned to move, it didn't mean that would change. Rangiku was a writer; her home was wherever her laptop laid its hat, so location would never be an issue. Maybe he was being a bit selfish, but he really didn't care. If she stayed behind while he left, who would annoy him when he went shopping? Who would give him the Puss N Boots eyes and ask him to play with their hair? Who would finish his sentences, read his thoughts and chastise him with just a look? No one, that's who. No one except Rangiku, and he refused to give her up.

The fact that she didn't mind his stinginess, either, was just a bonus.

Gin hustled out of the classroom and glanced down at his watch. He had a half hour before he needed to be at his father's restaurant for work. Thankfully, the old man had given him a chance and paid him well so he could save for his move and for the eventual school loans that were sure to nip at his heels for the first few years after graduation. He rushed out of the building, towards the parking lot and almost collided with one of his instructors on the stone stairs of the school's entrance.

"Hurrying is never beautiful, Gin," the shorter man chided, lavender eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Mah, I gotta get ta work, M-"

"Ah-ah! Never call me Mr. as long as you live."

Gin smirked and corrected himself. "Sorry, Yumi. Ya have a good night, alright?"

"Of course! Make sure you come prepared for the class project, Gin. I don't want anymore ugly excuses."

"Sure thing."

With that, he jumped down the last three stairs and jogged to his gray Volkswagen Passat, mind intent on a quick shower before work.

**XxxxxxX**

"Are ya kiddin'? He's hideous."

"He is not," Rangiku's sultry voice chuckled. "You're being picky again."

Gin shrugged as he replaced a couple of menus at the entrance podium. "It's my right. 'Sides, I ain't talkin' ta nobody wit' more gaps than teeth in his mouth."

"Gahahaha!" the apricot-haired woman shrieked before covering her own mouth, remembering where she was. "You're retarded."

"Yeah, well, after Grimm, I'm sure I ain't gonna meet Mr. Right."

Rangiku went silent and studied his profile. He resisted the urge to squirm, but just barely. Every time he brought up his dead lover, the woman would look at Gin like he'd told her he had a terminal illness or something. Grimmjow had passed away four years ago in a boating accident with a group of friends. They'd been out fishing, when an unexpected storm had destroyed their boat and carried their bodies away. The first year after the blue-haired man's death had been the worst. Gin hadn't been sure he would be able to cope, suffering from debilitating hope, until the police had finally found his lover's body. But with Rangiku and his father there to help, he'd eventually returned from the land of the despondent. Now he was better. He'd come to realize that Grimmjow had been a learning experience for him, teaching him the beauty of love and a fulfilling relationship. So, he thanked whoever was in charge upstairs for bringing the man into his life, no matter how briefly.

However, since he'd been back in the dating game, all he'd met were crazies and weirdos. He was no angel of perfection himself, but he didn't think he was that bad, either. Someone should have warned him that the pickin's were slim, and especially as a gay man.

"Don' look at me like that. I'm fine," he sighed as he headed back towards the bar.

"Gin-"

"Ya start goin' on 'bout how lonely I am, an' I'll kick yer ass, Ran," he interrupted sternly, eyes open and serious.

"I wasn't going to, stupid," Rangiku huffed, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "I was just going to say you've gotten stronger. I don't hear the pain in your voice that used to go along with mentioning Grimmjow."

He felt his ears grow warm and turned away from his best friend, refusing to let her see him blushing at her words. "Yeah, well...we all gotta grow up some time."

She didn't get a chance to respond because the swinging door behind the bar that led to the kitchen swished open, revealing his brightly smiling father. He shook his head as he watched the blond, older man dance over to them.

"My boy," Kisuke greeted before turning to Rangiku. "Hello, Grace. Nice to see you on time this evening."

Rangiku stuck her tongue out before enfolding Kisuke in a tight hug. "Hi to you too, other Daddy."

Gin leaned a hip against the bar counter and smirked at the familiar routine. Rangiku and his father would do the same thing each time they saw each other. It was heart-warming.

Kisuke hugged her back, then held her at arm's length, looking her over carefully. "Have you gained weight, young lady? Are you pregnant?"

"Kisuke!" she screeched indignantly, slapping his hands away, but her crystal-blue eyes were alive with laughter. "You never ask a woman that! Bad form!"

"Forgive him, Rangiku. He hasn't been housebroken yet," a deep voice put in from the kitchen doorway.

Sosuke Aizen had a habit of sneaking up on them, and this time was no different. Gin smiled warmly at his father's boyfriend of ten years.

"Hey, Pop. How ya doin' taday?"

Sosuke turned to him with an amiable grin. "I'm well and you, Gin? How are your classes going?"

"Ther' great! I'll be done in another few months. Jus' gotta finish up Advanced Commercial Design, then rustle up an internship."

"Good, good. Your father and I will be your very first customers once you graduate. I've been wanting to redecorate the house for three years now."

"Are you trying to say something about my taste, Sosuke?" Kisuke pouted, gray eyes shining.

Sosuke gave him an innocent, sideways smirk as he moved forward and gathered the slightly shorter man into his arms. "I would never."

Gin turned away from the sight of his fathers' affection for one another, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. He put up a front of being annoyed, but he was really happy for the two men. His dad had been shunned his whole life for never marrying Gin's mother, but Kisuke hadn't been in love with her. In fact, Gin had been a product of experimentation between a bi-curious man and a promiscuous woman. They'd only had sex once, but nine months later, the woman had found Kisuke and left Gin on his doorstep. Gin knew this because he'd forced the truth from his father once he'd turned thirteen and realized the man had a boyfriend.

Sosuke had been a God send. He'd come into Kisuke's life and swept the man clean off his feet, wooing him the proper way with flowers and candy, dates and fluffy cards: all the things Gin's father had a weakness for. At first Gin had been surprised, but he'd always known he himself was gay, so his inner fan-boy went crazy. All he could concentrate on was how genuinely happy Kisuke seemed, how the blond man didn't have to pretend anymore. He thought about how cute his father was, bustling about the house, getting ready for dates, worrying about his hair and clothes, and the fact that his father was seeing a guy never bothered him. And it never occurred to him to ask about his mother, either, a woman he'd been way too young to remember.

"They're so cute," Rangiku cooed from his side, pulling him from his thoughts.

Gin chuckled and watched as the two men finally stepped away from each other, stars still in their eyes. Kisuke sighed and fanned himself with a paper fan Sosuke had brought him back from a trip to Japan two years ago. The blond hadn't been without it since. His straw-colored bangs fluttered in the soft breeze the fan created as he glanced over Gin's shoulder, eyes growing wide with surprise.

"It's Shuuhei!" he exclaimed.

Gin aimed a look backwards and immediately froze, heart stammering painfully. His lips parted in shock as he watched his step-cousin enter the restaurant with a tall, red-haired man. They trekked to the back of the dining area on the left side of the building and were seated near a window. Gin couldn't take his eyes off Shuuhei's companion. He and the dark-haired man hadn't crossed paths in a while, almost a year. They used to be close, but once class had picked up, homework and studying had begun kicking his ass and eating up all of his free time. He hadn't seen Shuuhei since Thanksgiving and here it was February.

He was vaguely aware of his father and Sosuke heading over to the duo's table, but most of his attention was all for the ruggedly gorgeous red head. Once Shuuhei and the man took a seat, the red head removed the dark hat he wore, along with the gloves on his large hands. His hair was long. It was pulled into a low ponytail and hung over his right shoulder enticingly, reaching down the man's broad chest. But his eyes were also captivating. Under the soft lights of the restaurant, Gin marveled at the reddish-brown hue, heart pitter-pattering strongly behind his ribs. He hadn't even realized his breathing had gone all erratic and shallow until Rangiku leaned close and whispered in his ear.

"If you were a dog, your dick would be showing."

He choked and swung around to face her, eyes a bit wide and confused. Where the hell was he again?

"What?" he asked.

"Wow. I haven't seen you like this since...well...in a really long time."

He looked back at the red head's table and his heart beat so fast, it nearly gave out. He'd turned just in time to catch the red head's eyes. They were hooded and alluring, but cold and searing at the same time. It was like an unexpected needle prick: sudden and nerve-wrecking. Gin swallowed forcefully a couple of times, trying to calm his knuckle-headed heart, but the damned thing wouldn't listen to him. It insisted on convulsing and seizing, making breathing a chore. The man stared at him so intently, it was like he was trying to see into his soul, learn about Gin's very core. And then the moment passed when the red head looked over at Rangiku, eyes curious and appreciative.

Air left his lungs in a rush as he closed his eyes and sagged his shoulders. He'd only felt butterflies like that once in his life and the implications scared the shit out of him. He opened his eyes and left his attention on the red head, who was grinning like a rake at Gin's father, glimmering white teeth almost blinding all the way from where Gin stood by the bar.

"He's really cute. Big hands, too," Rangiku stated, head tilted to the side as she perused the red head's features.

Gin chuckled, shaking himself free from the delirium the red head's attractiveness caused. "I've never seen 'im before, but Pop said Shuuhei drops in every now an' then wit' a friend."

"Well, you do work on the other side of the restaurant, Gin. You rarely come on this side."

"So yer tellin' me I been missin' out on all a'that? Tha's jus' tragic."

Rangiku giggled and nudged him forward. They're in 'Hime's section. I'll tell her Kisuke said to switch you guys. Now go before she comes outta the kitchen."

Gin gave his best friend his signature, toothless smirk and saluted her. "Aye, aye, Sir."

"Hey!"

He laughed and casually strolled over to the red head's table, steeling himself when the man hit him with his full gaze again. The closer Gin got, the more he wanted to know about the guy. The man seemed like a rogue with all those tattoos on his neck and face, but if he was, he was a damned sexy one. But Gin also knew firsthand that you couldn't judge a book by its cover.

***balls deep – Yes, I did use that Hodge twins' term. *snaps fingers back and forth through the air* Kudos if you recognized it.**

***thirty degrees – using Fahrenheit, not Celsius. **

**This was fun! I really do have a thing for this pairing. For Renji. His hair, eyes, and body make me wish he wasn't a 2D character. Ent-ee-way...**

**I hope you guys liked it! Thanks for reading~**

**Next time...**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

He was _intrigued_ as he watched the silver-haired man slowly saunter over to his and Shuuhei's table. He was _intrigued_ when Urahara suddenly felt the urge to disappear from beside them. Hell, he was even _intrigued_ when Aizen followed the blond to the other side of the restaurant. However, all of his intrigue came to an abrupt standstill once the mysterious sterling-haired man paused next to Shuuhei. Maybe it was the smile, or quite possibly the way the guy's eyes seemed to look right through him even though they appeared closed. Whatever it was, it gave Renji the willies.

"Mah, Shuu, long time," the slender man said.

Renji cocked a brow and smirked. The other man's voice reminded Renji of his younger brother, whom he hadn't seen since he'd gone to prison. Jinta was sneaky as hell and his voice would take on the same pitch as this silver-haired guy's when the kid was up to no good. If Renji remembered correctly, the boy would be sixteen by now. His smirk disappeared as he took a careful sip of his water and sighed. Thinking about the younger red head depressed him. He'd always loved and protected the little troublemaker, so he hadn't expected Jinta to push him aside like their parents had. Guess he'd been wrong.

That was too bad. He really missed his brother.

"What're you talkin' about?" Shuuhei's incredulous voice cut into Renji's thoughts. "You're the one who went all MIA. Where ya been, Gin-bo?"

The silver-haired man's smirk widened as he shifted his weight and stuck his hands into his pockets. He casually blew a lock of that pale hair out of his face and sighed dramatically.

"Oh, I been around. Almos' done wit' school. Ya still dictatin' over at Rent-A-Center?"

Renji's eyes went back and forth as the two conversed. He didn't know why, but he'd expected the light-haired guy, Gin, to have a girly kind of voice. Maybe because he was so damned skinny. It was like the man was on strike against eating or something. The thought made him chuckle to himself, but also drew the attention of the other men. Shuuhei tossed him a weird look that was mixed with amusement, concern and confusion, while Gin merely turned his head in Renji's direction.

"Uh, you OK, Renji?" Shuuhei asked.

Renji nodded his head and busied himself looking out the window. He was used to having Shuuhei look at him like he was crazy, but he didn't know Gin. Gin's glances felt like electric shocks, like the guy was trying his damnedest to figure Renji out. He didn't like it.

"Oh, that's right, Gin! Ya never met my friend, Renji, have ya?"

Renji had to force himself not to jerk in surprise at the familiar introduction. He'd expected Shuuhei to call him his employee, or at the very most his co-worker. Not a friend. It'd been a long three years since he'd honestly felt anything resembling friendship; he was too used to keeping people out.

"Mm," Gin hummed, frosty blue eyes finally slitting apart to peer at Renji with no small amount of curiosity. "Nice ta meetcha."

A reedy hand was thrust forward before Renji knew what hit him, leaving him no choice but to shake it, albeit uncertainly. When he did, another chill strolled across his skin. Gin's hand reminded him of a rodent, thin and bony and creepily fragile. Blue eyes smiled at him even when the man's face remained expressionless, like Gin knew exactly what Renji was thinking. Gin's grip tightened for a fraction of a second, displaying a surprising amount of strength before the hand disappeared back into his pocket. Renji felt odd. He didn't know what to make of the silver-haired man and that was a first. He usually prided himself on having a good grasp of character, but Gin baffled him. Mystery shrouded the guy like Harry Potter's invisibility cloak, making it impossible to get a handle on anything he didn't want you to.

Unnerving.

"Yeah, same here," Renji grunted, response automatic.

He made his focus the window again, not really sure what else he should say. Turned out, his participation was no longer required; Shuuhei and Gin went back to chatting about what they'd been up to the past couple months. Renji watched the snow swirling outside the thick glass, the ground slowly acquiring a shallow layer of nature's powder. He thought about his parents: his tall, red-haired father, whose voice matched his boisterous personality, and his petite, dark-haired mother, whose tinkling voice was the complete opposite of her fiery temperament. He thought about how his mechanic father had given him the tools he'd needed to pursue engineering in college, how his mother had been there with loving support and great food to keep him motivated. He thought about Jinta and how he'd wanted the kid to do whatever made him happy, as long as it was legal. The little snot had cackled at him and told him he'd been thinking about boosting cars for a living. They'd pretend-wrestled before Jinta had finally sobered and told Renji he was pretty cool for a big brother.

The ominous feel of his throat tightening and the backs of his eyes stinging warned Renji he was about to make a spectacle of himself, so he gathered his emotions and tucked them away in the far corner of his heart, where they belonged. Thinking of his family always managed to depress the hell out of him. Seemed like tonight called for something a lot stronger than the hot chocolate he'd had in mind.

"-ji. Renji!"

He jumped and glanced around, bewildered. What the hell? His eyes found Shuuhei watching him with true concern this time. Crap. That was all he needed: the guy poking his nose in all the wrong places.

"What?"

"What _planet_ are you on right now, dude? I've been callin' you for the last minute and a half."

Renji sent a short look in Gin's direction before refocusing on Shuuhei. "I didn' hear you."

Shuuhei scoffed and rolled his coal-colored eyes. "Yeah, dimwit. That much is obvious. Gin's takin' our orders, so what're ya getting?"

"Oh," he said, mind still on his family. "Uh, I always get the steak an-"

"Scampi special? What kind of sides?" Gin interrupted, narrow face tilted to the side.

"Potatoes: mashed. Asparagus, and I take my steak medium well."

"Mm. Hearty eater, huh?"

Renji grinned. "Ah," he agreed. "I'm a big guy, Gin."

The willowy man's face went blank. Renji started thinking he'd done something wrong, when Gin suddenly straightened and nodded.

"OK, then. I'll get yer orders ta the kitchen."

Once the other man disappeared behind the kitchen doors, Renji turned to Shuuhei, confused.

"Did I say somethin' wrong?" he asked.

Shuuhei shrugged and squeezed a slice of lemon into a glass of water. "Gin's weird like that. I'm used to it."

Renji shrugged it away this time and turned back to the window, resting his chin in his hand and elbow on the edge of the table. His thoughts inevitably went back to his family. Would he ever see them again? Maybe not his parents so much, but what about his little brother? Would Jinta even want to see _him_?

Fuck.

XOXOXO

"So, what happened?" Rangiku attacked almost as soon as he entered the kitchen.

Gin pretended his heart wasn't convulsing behind his ribs and shrugged. "I talked to Shuu, then took ther' orders. Nothin' much."

"Oo-hoo! You are _lying_ like a _rug_, Gin-bo!"

He grinned and stuck a small sheet of paper above the cooks' station. That done, he swerved through the busy chef's center and headed towards the back exit, where he pushed the door open and held it for the excited woman he was sure would follow. Rangiku bounced ahead of him, but abruptly pulled up short and wheeled around to face him again.

"Spill your guts, Gin. I _know_ when you're hiding something, and this is a _big_,_ juicy_ something," she said sternly, blue eyes shimmering with determination under the lights above the back door.

Sighing, he fished in his pockets for his pack and lighter. He never could keep a thing from his orange-haired best friend. Don't know why he'd tried in the first place. After he lit up and enjoyed his first pull and exhale, he unleashed what he was really feeling.

"That man is fuckin' pipin' hot, Ran," he muttered. She giggled and nodded, encouraging him to go on, but he indulged with the cigarette again before continuing. "I mean, I could tell from a distance by his body an' all, but up close...s'another story altagether."

Rangiku pilfered the cigarette and sucked down a lungful herself. "What's so special 'bout this one, though?"

"His eyes. Ther' brown an' burgundy. Crazy, but nice, ya know? Course ther's that body a'his. Christ, Ran, he walks like he's got an anchor 'tween his legs. Tha's gotta be promisin', right?" He paused, not really expecting a response, just needing a second to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Then, he sweetened the pot. "His voice makes me think I'm part monkey er somethin', 'cuz I hear it an' wanna climb all over him. Shit ain't right. Ran, the guy said mah name and I almost had an orgasm." He shook his head. "And the _hair_..."

"I was waiting for you to get to that part. I'm surprised you've never been with a guy with long hair before, the way you obsess over it," she laughed.

"Yeah, well. Firs' time fer everythin'."

"So...did you wanna run your fingers through it?"

Gin knew she was being facetious, but she was _right_. He'd internally struggled like hell not to reach over and slide his fingers through that long, silky-looking, bright red ponytail. He didn't know where his thing for hair had come from, but it'd never been a big issue until then. Keeping his hands to himself had seemed damn near impossible, yet somehow, he'd done it.

"Fuck you," he grumbled.

Rangiku knew firsthand about his addiction to long hair since he always fell victim to playing with hers. She would tempt him by sitting in front of him while he perched on the couch, minding his business with a good movie or book. She'd lay her head in his lap and that would be all she wrote. Sometimes she wouldn't even have to ask. Those were usually the days he was frustrated about something and needed an outlet. He'd brush, braid and unravel, only to start all over until he calmed down. It was routine between them, and she looked forward to it almost as much as he did. Now she was teasing him about it. Evil woman.

"Aww, Gin-bo, don't be that way," she soothed. She took another pull from the cigarette and passed it off, dainty hands going to wide hips. "I'm just saying. Imagine having a _boyfriend_ whose hair you could play with like you do mine."

The effect was nearly instantaneous. Blood rushed to his head, and adrenaline surged through his veins. That was like waving a Gucci pump in front of a shoe freak.

"Mah...that was such a low blow, Ran."

Rangiku cackled as she nodded. "I love you too, Gin. See ya later."

She slithered back into the building, leaving him fuming and wanting to strangle the shit out of her for sticking such a provocative image in his head. He finished the cigarette and flicked away the butt before going inside himself. After a quick stop in the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his hands, he made it back to the kitchen just in time to grab Shuuhei's and his companion's food. He carefully situated the ovular, white plates along his forearms and in his hands, then backed through the double doors, out into the dining area. He carried them over to the two men's table, heart rate picking up the closer he got to the absentminded red head, who was currently aiming all of his attention at the window next to him. He approached and set down Shuuhei's plate first, not wanting to seem too eager to serve the red head. Renji, rather.

"Lobster fettuccini alfredo," he stated. As he set Renji's plate in front of him, the man turned and pinned him with haunted russet eyes. "And steak and scampi special. You guys need anything else?"

"Can I get a refill on my water?" the red head asked, voice a carnal indulgence.

Gin nodded, feigning nonchalance as he turned to Shuuhei. "You need some too?"

The dark-haired man shook his head, face already buried in his plate of pasta. Gin chuckled and lifted Renji's empty glass.

"I'll be back with this."

He shuffled off, left hand in his pocket as he went over to the bar. He decided the red head deserved some special treatment and grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter. He set it near the sink as he rinsed the glass before filling it partway with ice. After that, he poured the entire contents of the bottle into the glass, then carried it back to the red head. Gin secretly enjoyed the way Renji's lips formed a ghost of a smile as he accepted the perspiring cup with a quiet, "Thanks." Renji either didn't know how gorgeous he was, or he did, and just didn't give a shit. Gin was having a hard time deciding.

As he sauntered away from the table, he threw a curious glance over his shoulder, not surprised to find Renji more interested in his food than watching Gin's departure. Oh, well. He'd get the guy's attention sooner or later. He'd already decided the red head would be his next adventure – whether it was sexual or romantic didn't really matter at this point.

XOXOXO

He'd been lying in the bed for over half an hour now, eyes open and focused intently on the ceiling. _Not_ the green-haired woman snoring gently beside him.

He'd done exactly what he'd planned: ate at his favorite restaurant, went home and showered, changed, had a few shots of brandy, then vegged out in front of the TV. He'd quickly grown bored with that, though, and the alcohol coursing through his system had been thorough in riling up his libido. Sex foremost in his brain, he'd dug for the number he'd left in his work uniform pocket and called up the pretty girl named Nel. She'd answered after three rings, voice husky and promising. Hadn't taken long to get to the point after that. He'd shown up at her house, they'd danced through some small talk, then onto the big games after he'd declined her offer of a cup of coffee or tea. They'd both known what he was there for, and it hadn't involved anything to drink.

Nel had been everything he'd hoped for: soft, warm, and wet. The first round had taken care of the three year edge he'd built up in prison, while the second had put the green-haired woman down for the count. Now, he lay in her room in her periwinkle bed, trying not to fidget. He was fighting a losing battle. For one thing, he felt utterly uncomfortable, like his skin was crawling off his flesh. And for another, he wanted to be home in his own bed. He'd gotten what he'd wanted and now it was time to go. Nel hadn't been too subtle in her desire for him to leave as well, with her slurred statement of, "Lock the door when you go," before she'd dropped off to sleep. So, why the hell was he still there?

_Why, indeed_.

He sat up and threw the comforter aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he gathered his bearings. Finally, he climbed to his feet and searched the carpeted floor for his clothes. The sweats had ended up at the foot of the bed, while his long-sleeved t-shirt had ended up on Nel's side of it. He found his socks balled up under the comforter and his high-top Supra sneakers where his sweats had been. Once he was dressed, he made sure his keys were still safely in his sweats pockets before taking one last look at the beautiful woman on the bed, green hair sprawled over her pillow. He was sure it'd be the last time he'd see her.

Quietly, he crept from the bedroom, down the hall, then down the stairs, glad they were carpeted too and didn't make a whole lot of noise as he descended them. He stopped in the foyer for his hoodie, slipped into it, and left the house, locking the door behind him like Nel had asked.

**XxxxxX**

He felt a lot better in his own place, but his stomach still writhed, unsettled for some reason. He stood in the kitchen by the sink, hands bracing the edge. And then he scoffed. He knew why his stomach wouldn't settle down. It had nothing to do with the alcohol he kept feeding it, either. Normally, he stuck with his beer, but tonight...tonight he'd felt cracking open his reserve bottle of Hennessy had been completely necessary. The slow burn had distracted the funny feeling in his gut for a while, but now, it did nothing to prevent the stomach Olympics he had going on. No amount of liquor could drown the loneliness and rejection. No matter how drunk he got, he would always think about his family. About his parents, who obviously wanted nothing to do with him since they hadn't called or visited him once during and after his incarceration. About his little brother, who more than likely felt the same way, despite their closeness prior to Renji's three year absence.

Fuck. He'd made a mistake. Wasn't everyone entitled to a few of those in their lifetime? So, why had he been condemned for his? Was it so bad, it required the loss of his family? Damn, he missed them.

He knocked back another shot and tossed the tiny glass into the sink before lowering his head and running a hand through his hair. No one knew his pain. No one _cared_. Women saw his tattoos and body and wanted to fuck him, but they didn't want to _know_ him. They enjoyed the thrill he represented with his bad boy image, but that was about it. And most guys assumed he was trouble and tended to stay far away from him. Shuuhei and Ichigo had been the only ones brave enough to step into his personal space, for which he was grateful, but still a bit wary. He'd learned a thing or two about that elusive subject called trust. Slippery son of a bitch, that was. Even though Shuuhei was his friend, the dark-haired man knew nothing about what was going on with Renji's family. He knew what Renji wanted him to know, and that was how it was going to stay.

Renji's parole officer was a pain in the ass, constantly hounding him, even after he'd been given proof of the red head's employment. Did that monotonous bastard give a sideways shit? Of course not. It didn't matter that Renji didn't get high, resulting in consistently clean urine. It didn't matter that he had a job. It didn't even matter that he stayed out of trouble and made his parole appointments _on_ time, _all_ the time. Officer Schiffer saw him as just another piece of trash that'd managed to weasel its way out of the system.

With that kind of hand being dealt to him, it was no wonder Renji was withdrawn and not as sociable as he used to be. Of course, he missed hanging out with those he'd thought were his friends. He missed playing ball in front of a screaming crowd. Hell, he even missed his classes. He wondered if his credits were still available to him if he decided to finish that engineering degree. Didn't really matter. He had no money, and he was positive he was no longer eligible for grants and loans. Everything had gone down the drain the moment he'd lost his cool over that stupid girl. Someone should've told him being young and blindly in love would only backfire on him in the long run.

Shit. Now he was sulking.

Renji straightened his back and swayed on his feet. When he blinked, his eyelids were heavy and resistant against being reopened. Time to crash. He staggered from the kitchen and into the living room, which was as far as he got. The couch seemed like a much better idea than traveling all the way to his bedroom: a whole twenty foot journey. Nope. No way was he making it. He fell face-first onto the tan couch and instantly fell asleep.

XOXOXO

Gin stumbled into the quiet house, a night of drinking with Rangiku making his steps ridiculously unstable. He tripped over the small mat in the foyer and chuckled in the dark. He was totally shit-faced. It'd been a really long time since he'd gotten drunk enough to lose his balance while walking. Hell, usually he held his liquor like a champ. Tonight, though? Not so much. Rangiku had insisted on celebrating the reawakening of his male hormones, so to speak. In other words, she was happy he was actually interested in someone after such a long period of romantic dormancy.

He took a couple steps forward and dropped his keys. After sucking his teeth and starting to bend to retrieve them, he thought otherwise. The room tilted at a dangerous pace, so he threw his hands out and braced himself against the nearest wall. Unfortunately that wall turned out to be his father.

Kisuke – merciless as usual – flipped the foyer light, blinding Gin with all the intensity of a supernova. Gin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he found the real wall this time.

"Mah, Pop," was all he managed in his state.

Kisuke gave his signature, mysterious chortle before coming closer. "Gin, you're falling-down drunk. Are you depressed? Or are you celebrating?"

Too much at once. His stomach was beginning to protest the amount of alcohol in it, making him gulp down precious air like it was a rare commodity. He fumbled along the wall, desperately trying to get his legs to cooperate with him, but they were being quite stubborn at the moment. Kisuke started towards him, but the addition of another voice in the foyer halted him.

"Kisuke, what's going on?"

Was it terrible that he was too far gone to care that both his fathers had discovered him drunk and floundering about the foyer? No? Good.

Sosuke entered the small room and stared at Gin for a few seconds. "Gin, your intoxication is astounding," he commented.

"Yep," Gin mumbled in response. "S'bout ta get messy too if I don' make it ta the bathroom soon."

That jerked both older men into action. Kisuke grabbed one arm, while Sosuke grabbed the other and together, they hauled Gin to the bathroom on the first floor. He didn't even have his eyes open as he fell to his knees and hugged the porcelain savior, emptying into it everything from vodka to blood vessels. The bathroom door slammed shut, and Gin thought he was left alone to retch and sacrifice his insides in peace. However, it was not to be. A hovering presence made itself known to his left. He peered from the corner of his eye, disappointed to see his blond sire seated on the edge of the tub, hands folded in his lap. If Kisuke had stuck around, it obviously meant he had something important on his mind. But jeez, couldn't it wait until morning?

Gin groaned into the toilet, stomach still performing languid somersaults. He wanted to gouge out his eyes and die, certain it would feel tons better than the torture he was currently enduring. Someone had decided the slow flips in his gut weren't enough, and was now scraping at his intestines with something hot and extremely pointy. Not fair.

"Son, this doesn't have anything to do with..." Kisuke started.

Oh. No wonder his father was concerned. He thought Gin was falling back into his depressed days. Not so. In fact, he was pretty happy now. How to get that across while drunk? Hmm...

He pondered it, but came up empty each go round, so instead, he fell asleep, head resting on the lip of the toilet. Not the most comfortable of places, of course, but better than the floor at this point. The last thing Gin was aware of was an exasperated sigh, then wonderful darkness.

**XxxxxX**

**One Week Later**

He'd figured out a way to switch places in the restaurant with Inoue, a sweet, orange-haired girl, who hadn't minded in the least. The only one that had been skeptical of his motives had been his blond father, of course. Kisuke had grilled him thoroughly, but Gin had miraculous ways of avoiding the third degree from the older man. Hell, he'd had years of practice under his belt. The only person completely aware of why he'd switched to the opposite side of the restaurant was Rangiku, and she made sure to tease him about it on a daily basis.

Renji hadn't shown up since the last time he'd been there with Shuuhei, but Gin had hopes the man would return. And if the guy did, he wanted front row seats.

"Salmon and potato bake!" a chef called from the kitchen.

Gin hustled inside and grabbed the order. The elderly lady at table ten wanted her food piping hot and complained if it was anything less. Gin had no problem respecting those older than him, but that lady would put Mother Theresa to the test. He needed to carry the plate with a white hand towel in order to not burn himself, but the gray-haired lady smiled at him as he set it down in front of her.

"Thank you, dear," she said.

"Not a problem, Ms. Grace. Hope ya enjoy an' lemme know if ya need anythin' else."

She ignored him, but that wasn't done out of spite. Sometimes Ms. Grace forgot to turn her hearing aid up. Guess it wasn't required when eating. Gin chuckled and shuffled off to the bar, mind on the project he had to turn into class the next day. He lifted a bottle of water to his lips and froze as his eyes went to the entrance of the restaurant. Tonight, the man had on a pair of thick, dark-blue sweatpants, a matching thermal top and a gray hoodie over it. Dark-blue and white, high-top sneakers were on his feet as he paused beside the host/hostess podium. Gin drank in the sight like he'd never seen it before. Renji had his luscious red hair pulled back in a long braid, a black, elastic headband keeping stray hairs off his face. He had dark, fuzzy gloves on his hands, but rubbed them back and forth as he blew on them and nodded something at Rangiku.

She led him to a table near the back of Gin's serving section and set a menu down in front of him before flouncing away. Her blue eyes were bright with mischief as she glanced at Gin and winked, smile wide and knowing. He was up to bat, so to speak. He collected himself with a deep breath before plucking his order pad from his back pocket. This was a first for him. He hadn't felt nervousness in so long, it kind of made him mad. He strolled the short journey to Renji's table and stopped beside it, ingrained waiter manner taking control of his body.

"Somethin' ta drink?" he asked, peering down at the red head.

Renji glanced up at him, then back down at the menu he held in his hands. After a few seconds of that, his head came back up, eyes widening with recognition.

"You're..."

"Gin. An' yer Renji. I remember."

"Oh...yeah, um...I'll take a Guinness Stout."

Gin nodded and made a note of it. "Ya wanna start with an appetizer er somethin'? Or ya know what ya want already?"

Renji seemed distracted because he studied the menu like it held the key to life. Gin waited a few beats before trying again to get the man's attention.

"Hellooo?"

Finally the red head looked up at him, russet eyes profoundly sad. It shocked Gin. He hadn't been expecting to see such raw pain in the man's expression. What the hell could be making the guy look like that? He didn't want to pry though, so he just repeated what he'd said earlier.

"Um," Renji started, eyes going back to the menu. Then he slapped it down on the table and rubbed his eyes wearily. After a deep sigh and slight chuckle, the red head lowered his hand and met Gin's confused gaze. "I'm not even really hungry. I jus' wanted ta get outta the house," he mumbled.

The guy's voice was so lost and forlorn, Gin felt it his duty to take a seat across from him. Hell, he wanted to reach out and take the man's hand, but figured it would be too overwhelming. Renji didn't react the way Gin thought he would. Instead, he just watched like he was waiting for a bomb to explode in his face.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" Gin suggested quietly.

He wasn't great at offering advice, but Rangiku often told him he was a good listener. He could do that all day.

"I wouldn't even know where ta start," Renji answered. Then he scowled as he locked eyes with the silver-haired man again. "What would ya do if I told ya I was in prison fer three years?"

Gin admitted his shock. He'd expected the red head to be somewhat of a bad boy, what with his dangerous looks and all, but prison had been far from the radar. He shifted on the cushioned seat and rubbed the tip of his nose.

"Mah...I think I'd ask what for first."

Renji arched a brow, but immediately said, "Aggravated assault."

Gin studied the handsome face and realized things weren't lining up correctly for him. He didn't see Renji as a cruel, sadistic bastard, who went around laying dudes out with his fists for no good reason. He didn't look like a serial killer in the making, either. Yeah, everyone knew you couldn't judge a book by its cover, but in a lot of cases, appearances went a long way.

"Whose ass didja kick? An' why?" he asked.

The red head sucked his teeth and averted his eyes, scowl deep and scary-looking. Finally, after a long, tense pause, he spoke. "I walked in on my ex fuckin' another guy," he shrugged. "I kicked the guy's ass. He pressed charges. I went to jail. The end."

Gin shook his head. He knew there was a story behind those reddish-brown eyes. No wonder Renji was so distracted. He obviously had a lot on his mind. But he'd said he'd been in jail for three years...hypothetically. That would've given him more than enough time to get over his cheating ex and move on. So, the question still remained: why was he so sad and forlorn _now_?

"An' then what happened? That can't be the whole story."

Renji snorted, but the sadness in his eyes deepened. Gin tried waiting patiently, but Renji _obviously_ had no desire to elaborate. Therefore, Gin tried nudging the red head with words. Perhaps he _was_ being too nosy for his own good, but he just couldn't keep watching the gorgeous guy sulk like someone had stolen his Christmas tree on Christmas Eve.

"Ya might as well let it out. Ya look like yer best friend died," he continued.

But Renji was in another world. Luckily, that world had him spilling his guts like someone cut his stomach open.

"After I went ta prison, my family stopped talkin' ta me. My mom, my dad, even my little brother. I haven't heard from them in three and a half years."

Gin stared, utterly flabbergasted. He couldn't even imagine his fathers not speaking to him anymore, let alone having it actually occur. So, that was why Renji was so depressed. So sad. The betrayal of an ex, being sent to prison because of the ex's betrayal, _on top_ of the loss of ties with his family? That had to be keeping the man awake at night. Gin knew it would keep _him_ from getting any sleep. He slowly climbed to his feet and stuck his notepad back into his pocket.

"I'll getcha yer beer. Think a'somethin' ta eat while I'm gone. This is on me."

He ignored Renji's astonished expression as he made his way to the bar. He hadn't felt this bad for someone in a long time, but he didn't want the guy thinking it was all pity. Gin glanced over his shoulder and took a peek at the red head. Renji was busy studying the tabletop, not paying attention to him, but Gin still smiled. He was determined to know more about the mysterious guy.

**Next time...**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Renji stared at the table and wondered what the fuck he'd just gotten himself into. Why had he just unloaded on a guy he didn't even know? A guy he thought was kind of creepy? It didn't make sense at all, but he would admit that it felt good. _Really_ good. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, the knife pulled from his heart. He didn't have many people he could talk to these days – no one, if he was really honest with himself, so being able to just let it all go was similar to walking on a cloud. Now, he just had to worry about what the silver-haired waiter named Gin had up his sleeve. Did he think Renji was a criminal? He probably did. After hearing a story like that, Gin had to think Renji was some type of hooligan.

Well, it wasn't like that was new.

Renji glanced down at the watch on his left wrist and sighed. It was eight PM. He'd been sitting in his apartment, feeling restless and antsy, depressed and disgusted with himself. He hated not knowing what was going on with his family. He hated the fact that they weren't speaking to him anymore. And he hated that it made him feel so pathetic. So miserable and alone. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad if he had a girlfriend – someone he could come home to and spend time with. Someone who cared about him and what he was doing with himself. Someone who was just _there_. Instead, he had no one.

"Shit," he muttered as he glared at the tabletop. "Stop fuckin' sulkin'."

Throwing his own personal pity party would get him nowhere. In fact, it would only make the ache of solitude sharper and more pronounced. He didn't need that. He'd come out of his apartment to get his family off his mind for the time being, even if it had resulted in him finding his way to his favorite restaurant. Which brought him back to the silver-haired man sauntering in his direction from behind the bar, tall mug of dark beer in his left hand. The other hand was in the man's pocket. Gin gave off strange and mysterious vibes, but the way he'd listened and hadn't immediately judged Renji spoke of a warm characteristic that was more than welcome.

Gin slid into the seat opposite Renji after setting the Guinness down in front of him. He didn't jump into speech; no, he calmly made himself comfortable against the leather cushioned seats and watched Renji, expression completely unreadable.

Uncertain of where to go with their tentative get-to-know-you dance, Renji lifted the glass of beer and took a slow sip. He was proud that he was able to maintain eye contact with Gin, though. Finally, when it seemed like the silence would stretch on for eternity, Gin cleared his throat and leaned forward, folding his slender hands on the table.

"So, why didja tell me that?" he asked.

Renji almost spilled his beer down the front of his shirt. Of all the things he'd thought Gin would say, _that_ hadn't been one of them.

"I, uh... I don't know."

"I know why."

_Well, if he knew, why the hell did he even bother asking?_ Renji thought, disgruntled. It must've shown on his face because Gin smirked.

"You don' got many friends, do ya?" he asked. Renji frowned, but didn't even have a chance to respond. "I saw the way ya looked when Shuu called ya his friend. Not really an expression a guy might wear if he was expectin' a statement like that."

"Yeah, so? You goin' somewhere with this?"

"Why dontcha have friends?"

Gin's eyes had been slitted shut up until that moment, but when that last question left his mouth, they opened and focused on Renji's face. Renji stared back, entranced. When Gin wasn't being so creepy, he was actually a good-looking guy. Maybe he should open his eyes more often. As Gin continued to stare, Renji shook himself free of his strange thoughts and shrugged his shoulders.

"I dunno. You tell me. There's obviously _somethin'_ 'bout me that people don't take well to," he rumbled before taking another long sip of his beer.

Gin sucked his teeth and reached into the breast pocket of his white, button-up shirt. When he pulled his hand free, he had a cigarette in it. He stuck the cigarette between his teeth and rolled it back and forth as his long fingers drummed along the table top. Renji watched with amusement. Gin _had_ to know that there was no smoking in the restaurant.

"Ya know ya can't light that up in here, right?"

Ice-blue eyes gave Renji a deadpan stare. "Really? I had no idea."

For the first time in a while, Renji chuckled, feeling carefree. He didn't know what it was about the slender, silver-haired man that made him open up to the guy, but he was starting to like it.

Just a little.

Renji sipped his beer again before deciding that he wanted to know more about Gin. He wanted to figure out why the guy seemed so mysterious. That thought in mind, he set down his glass and looked at Gin, who was staring off into space.

"How long you been workin' here?"

Gin slowly pulled himself from his thoughts and returned Renji's curious gaze. "I don' really remember," he said after taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "I'm jus' here 'til I finish up school, anyway."

"You say that like ya don't like the job."

"Nah, it's nothin' like that. I guess I jus' never gave it much thought since this is my dad's and his partner's place."

Renji nodded and sipped his beer again. When Gin was serious, his voice didn't remind him of an eccentric villain in a comic book. In fact, it was actually normal.

"My turn," Gin said abruptly, that grin back in full force. It made Renji nervous, even though he nodded his assent. "You like coffee?"

_What?_

"Uh...yeah, I guess. I mean, I'm not opposed to it. Why?"

Gin grinned as he rose from the cushioned booth. "'Cuz, we're gonna go grab some in a sec. I know this nice lil spot not too far from here."

Again, Renji didn't get a chance to respond before Gin was hustling off behind the bar counter. He watched as the silver-haired man pulled Urahara to the side and spoke into the older blond man's ear. After a few moments, Urahara stepped back, wearing a slight frown of confusion even as he nodded. Gin breezed through the kitchen's double doors and was back within seconds, a long, black coat covering his thin frame. He patted Urahara's shoulder and held up his hand in the universal "call me" gesture towards the orange-haired woman Renji had been seated by. She'd told him her name was Rangiku, and she was still as pretty as the first time he'd seen her.

Gin made his way back to Renji and stopped beside him, head tilted to the side. "Well? Whatcha waitin' on? Christmas?"

Renji chuckled, carried away by Gin's tempo as he shrugged and slowly stood. "Maybe. Why? Ya got a present for me?"

Gin paused, those ice blue irises revealing themselves once more as he seemed to study Renji's face. Renji was getting used to the other man's strange little quirks, so the look no longer fazed him. He waited patiently as Gin looked him over.

"What do guys like you like as presents anyway?" he finally asked.

Renji was caught off guard. "I don't know. The usual stuff, I guess. You know I was just joking, right?"

"Mah."

With that, Gin walked away from the table, hands shoved into his coat pockets. Renji followed him, a grin stretching across his face. Gin was so different from the people he was used to running across, and not only was it refreshing, but it was intriguing as well. They left the restaurant together and once outside, Renji paused and looked around. Where was the coffee place Gin had mentioned? And how long would this little impromptu "man-date" last? He had a bottle of whiskey at home that was calling his name.

Gin pulled out a cigarette – probably the same one he'd been toying with inside the restaurant – and put it between his lips. This time he withdrew a lighter and lit up, inhaling deeply before sliding a sideways glance in Renji's direction.

"You smoke?"

"Nah. You shouldn't, either. It's no good for you."

"Haha! Mah, ya think I don' know that?"

"So, why do you do it?"

Gin shrugged slim shoulders. "It feels good. Ya ever do somethin' jus' 'cuz it feels good, Renji?"

The way the silver-haired man had asked that question instantly made Renji think he was referring to sex, which in turn made him wonder after Gin's sexual orientation. That gleam in his eye made the man look like a sexual deviant.

"Yeah. Too many times to count, actually."

"So, ya know the feelin', then."

They stood in silence as Gin puffed on his cigarette, filling the frosty air with the acrid scent of its smoke. Renji plunged his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to say. He wasn't too good at holding conversations anymore since he was prone to thinking that people had an ulterior motive, or were just out to judge him. It was exhausting and frustrating, but he really couldn't help what he'd become.

After a few minutes, Gin tossed the spent cigarette and started off towards the curb. Renji took that as his cue to follow him. They crossed the street to a gray sedan, where Gin disarmed the alarm and unlocked the doors. Renji rounded the car and hopped into the passenger seat, eager for warmth. The few minutes they'd spent standing outside had managed to chill him to the bone. As he waited for Gin to start the car, he rubbed his hands together, blowing on his fingers as he did so. He was wondering what he was doing in the car with a virtual stranger – wondering why exactly he'd decided to spill his guts about his past. Had Gin been right? Was it because he didn't have any friends? None close enough that he would feel comfortable sharing what'd happened to him, anyway. He had to admit, the man's words held a sliver of truth. Why else would he have told his whole life to a man he'd once (and still did at times) thought was creepy? He glanced over at Gin, only to find the man staring at him, blue eyes once again open.

"What?" he asked defensively, barely resisting the urge to run a hand over his face, or fold his arms across his chest. "Did I do somethin' wrong?"

Gin cracked that signature grin of his, making his eyes disappear. "Nope. I jus' like makin' ya squirm. It's cute."

Renji indeed fidgeted after hearing that. What was Gin talking about? Cute? What? He turned to the window and focused on the few people meandering down the sidewalk. The snow on the ground was thick and a pretty white that left the street glowing. He didn't know what to make of his new companion. Gin was like a suspense novel with so many plot twists, it made Renji dizzy.

"I ain't cute," he grumbled as an afterthought.

Gin snorted and started the car, blasting the heat after shifting the car into drive. "If you say so, Red."

**XxxxxX**

The small cafe was about five minutes away from the restaurant, and it was nice and quiet – a place Renji could definitely see himself frequenting from time to time. The atmosphere was peaceful, the walls a robin's egg blue, while the floor was an off-white marble. The tables were black, as were the seats, and the music playing in the background was soft jazz. Renji sat back in his seat and sipped from the large mug that was filled with caramel latte. Gin had a mug too, but his was filled with espresso. Why? Renji had no idea, since Gin seemed to have enough natural energy. He didn't need the caffeine boost the drink provided.

"Tell me 'bout yourself," Renji grunted impulsively.

He'd meant what he said about getting to know more about Gin.

Gin had been in the middle of sipping his espresso as Renji had asked his question, so he paused, the mug still lifted to his lips. After a beat, he lowered it and licked them.

"Whattaya wanna know?"

"Anything. Better yet, why'd you bring me here?"

"Tha's easy," Gin instantly replied. "'Cuz ya needed to clear yer head. Had I left ya at the restaurant ta yer own devices, ya'd probably be stumblin' home drunk right now."

He was right.

Renji shrugged and set down his mug. "Maybe. What's it to you what I do, though?"

"Ain't none a'my business, but I couldn't jus' sit there an' do nothin', ya know?"

"Mm," Renji hummed. It still didn't make any sense, but he decided to let it go for the time being. Instead of pursuing the topic, he pressed forward with another one. "So, you datin' that girl back at the restaurant? What's her name? Rangiku?"

Gin arched a brow and sat back in his seat with a sly smirk. "Why? Ya interested in her?"

"She's beautiful, but not my type. Girls like her jus' like to fuck guys like me."

"Really? So, what _is_ yer type?"

Renji paused and actually thought about it. If he had to describe the type of woman he liked, it would have nothing to do with looks and everything to do with personality. Seemed corny, but it was true. The beautiful ones always turned out to be the more shallow ones. He was looking for someone he could talk to, someone who would be there for him when he needed her, someone who was loyal.

"Physically?" he asked.

Gin didn't miss a beat. "Whatever. Don' matter ta me. It's yer type, remember?"

Renji cleared his throat, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he thought of a way to explain what he wanted without looking like a total lame. When he came up with nothing, he shrugged and went with his gut.

"Honestly, I'm more concerned with the personality. Mainly, someone with a strong sense of loyalty. I've been burned enough."

Gin nodded as he lifted his mug again. They lapsed into an easy silence – one where Renji didn't feel pressured to fill it with mindless chatter. He could get used to this. If only Gin was a girl. At the thought, he chuckled.

"Care ta share the joke?" Gin asked quietly, blue eyes shining with amusement.

"It's, uh...I just...thought of something funny. Y-you wouldn't understand," he stammered, embarrassed at being caught.

The silver-haired man leaned forward and grinned. "Try me."

Renji was tempted, if only to see what Gin's reaction would be. However, he changed his mind at the last second. He was positive that no matter how eccentric Gin seemed, he wouldn't look too kindly at being wished a female. Renji shook his head.

"Maybe some other time."

They went silent again, but this time the air was riddled with curious tension, all of it emanating from his companion. _There goes that word again_, Renji thought. It was the second time he'd used it in his mind tonight, but there was nothing else he could think of to label Gin with. It made sense, as strange as that sounded.

The peace of the little shop was interrupted by the tinkling bell over the entrance. Renji looked up and froze, heart jack-hammering in his chest. His mouth was open as he stared at a face he hadn't seen in over three years – one he'd longed to see, but had no idea of how to go about doing it. Bright red hair peeked from beneath a black and gray snowball hat, and dark eyes were gleaming behind black, plastic frames. The boy had gotten taller, his hair a little longer, but he was still the same. He smiled at the pale-haired kid he was with before reaching over and grasping the boy's hand. Renji frowned, but was still too stunned to do much more than that.

"Hey, you OK?" Gin asked. His voice sounded like it was miles away inside a tin can. "Renji?"

Renji slowly climbed to his feet after placing his mug on the table. He was surprised he hadn't dropped it and spilled his latte all over his clothes. After another moment of debating within himself about whether he should approach the boy or not, he inwardly steeled himself and made his way over. The two teenagers were standing in front of the counter, quietly bickering over what to order, when Renji came to a stop behind them. The red-haired kid's voice was like stepping inside one's home during a raging storm: safe and familiar.

"Jinta?"

The red head turned with a confused scowl before recognition hit him and widened his dark eyes. He stared for a few beats before his voice came out as a low squeak.

"R-Renji?"

XOXOXO

Gin sat at the cafe table, utterly flabbergasted. He had mustered the courage to take Renji out on a small outing, deeply affected by the man's heart-felt words back at the restaurant, and now, his "date" had wandered off to talk to some teen, who hauntingly resembled Renji himself. He had the same fire engine red hair, the same straight nose and the same full lips. It was almost disconcerting. Gin looked on in confusion. He wanted to go over and find out what was going on – wanted to figure out why Renji had left the table after looking like he'd seen a plane fall out of the sky. But it wasn't his business, so he stayed put. Didn't keep him from watching the exchange, though.

Renji was staring at the younger boy, eyes wide and clearly shocked. Who the hell was that kid? And then, Gin recalled something Renji had told him at the restaurant that made his own eyes open up with surprise. Maybe that was... He stared a little harder and nodded to himself. It had to be. Renji had told him that he hadn't seen his family since he'd been locked up, and since the kid was obviously too young to be Renji's father, he had to be the kid brother Renji had mentioned.

"Holy shit," Gin breathed.

He continued to watch the two red heads interact, Renji's brows lowering from their shocked position into a deep scowl as he glared at the younger boy. Gin wished he could hear what was being said, but knew better than to approach his newly made friend. He didn't want to invade the man's privacy anymore than he already had. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette before sticking it between his lips and rolling it back and forth with his teeth. It was a habit he had when he was feeling flustered or anxious – something Rangiku teased him about all the time. He was close to lighting up, when Renji suddenly snarled at the red-haired teenager.

"You were _supposed_ to be my fuckin' brother, Jinta!"

After that, Renji whirled on his heel and stormed back to the table, where he grabbed his hoodie, slipped into it and took off for the door. Gin was so stunned, he sat immobile for a few seconds, trying to figure out what had just happened, but then, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his own coat. He dropped a few bills on the table to cover his and Renji's tab and jogged from the cafe behind the irate red head. Once he was on the sidewalk, he looked left first, then right before he spotted the man stomping up the street.

"Hey, Red! Wait up!" he called.

Renji's long-legged stride didn't even pause. That kind of stung. Gin had begun thinking that they'd established some type of camaraderie, but he must've been wrong. He found himself running again as he caught up to Renji and grasped the slightly taller man's elbow.

"What the hell, Red? Wha's goin' on?"

Renji finally responded, but not the way Gin had been expecting. He pulled to an abrupt stop and snatched his arm out of Gin's grip.

"Look, Gin, I appreciate the gesture an' all that, but I ain't in the mood ta talk right now. Leave me the fuck alone."

Gin scowled, his hands falling to his sides. Well, there went all of his hard work. Renji had retreated into his shell again, and there seemed to be no drawing him out this time around. Resigned, he held up his hands in surrender before remembering the cigarette in his mouth and grabbing his lighter from his pocket. He lit up and shook his head.

"Fine," he mumbled, eyes hard and narrowed. "I'll do that. Have a nice life, Red."

He turned away from Renji and headed for his car, but not before he spotted the red head's obvious grimace of remorse. Gin was a few feet away when Renji called out to him, but Gin ignored him. Let the oaf have a taste of his own fucking medicine for a change.

**XxxxxxxX**

"Aww, Gin-bo. You look sad."

Gin rolled his eyes at his best friend as he set a wine glass onto his cherry wood coffee table. He was seated cross-legged on his plush, beige, soft leather couch, while Rangiku was seated on the floor in front of him. She had on a pair of white lounge shorts and a neon-pink, lace-trimmed cami. If Gin was attracted to females, he would be drooling at all of the exposed cleavage and creamy-looking skin – best friend or not.

His attire for the evening was a dark-blue wife beater and matching pajama pants, and a cigarette was stuck behind his left ear. They were having their usual weekend bonding time, which always included several bottles of wine and a plethora of chick flicks. Gin sat back against the cushions of the couch and sighed. He wasn't necessarily sad, but he _was_ disappointed at losing his chance to get closer to one of the sexiest men he'd ever seen in his life. After a brief moment of silence, he sighed again.

"Oh, wow. You sound like you're in love or something. What's going on?" Rangiku continued, blue eyes totally amused.

"I was _this_ close ta gettin' him ta open up ta me. _This_ close!" he blurted as he held the index finger and thumb of his left hand a millimeter apart. "Then, he jus' shut down on me. I don' get that guy."

"What do you mean he just shut down on you?"

Gin snatched the cigarette from behind his ear. Just thinking of the scene between him and the red head caused a deep urge to ingest some nicotine. He lit up and after his first pull and exhale, he rolled his eyes in Rangiku's direction.

"He shut down. He basically told me ta fuck off."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, my point exactly."

They went quiet again as Gin enjoyed his cigarette. He couldn't stop thinking about Renji and how upset the man had been. It was now clear that the red-haired teenager in the cafe had been Renji's estranged brother. Gin wondered why – not for the first time – the youngster had distanced himself from Renji. Was it because of their parents? Was it because he'd judged Renji and found the man lacking? Or...was it because of the pale-haired kid that he'd been holding hands with at the time? Gin doubted Renji had any idea that his kid brother was gay, but it was obvious as a flood light to Gin. There was no mistaking the look the younger red head had had in his eyes when he'd looked at his companion.

Would Renji be disgusted? Was that what the younger red head was thinking? Gin sighed. Hell, anything was possible.

"I think tonight's a comedy night. You need to lighten up because you're being a drag, Gin-bo. I'm not used to this cloud of gloom you've got hanging around you."

He nodded slowly. His best friend was right. Normally, they were loud and boisterous at a time like this, but since he couldn't keep Renji from invading his thoughts, his behavior was affected.

"Sorry, babe. I'll do better, 'kay?"

"Good. So, which is it? Two Weeks' Notice, orrrrr...Bridget Jones's Diary?"

"I'll take door number two, thanks. Maybe if I watch somebody else's humiliation, it'll lessen my own."

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," Rangiku scoffed as she crawled over to the TV, DVD in hand. "He was probably having a bad night. I guarantee he'll be back at the restaurant, looking to apologize or something."

Gin shrugged, but he didn't think so. Renji had seemed pissed after he'd shouted at his little brother and taken off in the opposite direction of the cafe. However, even though it seemed farfetched, anything was possible. He watched Rangiku slip the disc into the player and crawl back to her spot in front of him. She leaned against the cushion, her temple resting on his knee, and Gin smirked. Rangiku had about as much subtlety as a freight train barreling along railroad tracks. He reached forward and undid the tie keeping her hair up. Once the silken mass had fallen to her back, he ran his fingers through it, reveling in its texture and smell. He finger-combed the apricot-colored tresses for a bit before he finally gathered them into three sections and began a long braid. Rangiku hummed in pleasure as he repeated the process about five times. The movie had begun playing, and by the time the first ten minutes had gone by, Gin was in a deep trance, Bridget Jones and her diary miles away from his mind.

**XxxxxxxX**

"Why are Mondays so boring?" Rangiku whined as she leaned against the bar counter. "There's almost no one here!"

Gin glanced around the nearly empty restaurant before going back to filling a tall glass with Budweiser.

"It's almos' time ta close, anyway. Stop complainin'."

"Awww, you're no fun ever since that red head broke your heart."

Gin pursed his lips and tossed a wet rag at the woman's head. Rangiku giggled and danced out of the line of fire, but not before blowing Gin a saucy kiss.

"Shut up!" he snapped.

He was only upset because she was right. Renji hadn't broken his heart, but he _had_ been a huge disappointment. A whole week and three days had gone by and Gin _still_ hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man. Maybe he never would again. He shook his head and set the glass of beer on a medium-sized, round platter before carrying it to the big man sitting alone in the corner of the restaurant.

Eyes the color of steel glanced at him, amusement residing within their depths. "Who's been messin' witcha, Slick?"

Despite his funky mood, Gin found himself smirking at the huge man sitting before him as he set the beer down.

"What makes ya think someone's been messin' wit' me?"

The man ran a hand through long, dark hair as he grinned, the expression predatory. The scar slicing through his left eye didn't help things, either. If one didn't know the guy, one would think he was the Boogeyman, but Gin knew firsthand that Kenpachi Zaraki was nothing of the sort. He _could_ be if he wanted to, but normally, he wasn't.

"'Cuz ya don' got that stupid smile on yer face taday."

"Yeah, I do."

"Nah, it ain't the same. Like I said, ya look like someone took that cookie jar with yer secret stash in it."

Gin threw his head back and cackled. No one aside from Rangiku and this man knew about the secret stash in his cookie jar.

"Long as ya keep it a secret from my Pop, Unc."

"Ha! Ya think my brother don' know ya smoke pot from time ta time?" Kenpachi retorted with an arched eyebrow.

That was news to Gin. If his father knew about that little pastime, then he kept it to himself. _Well, I guess that's better in the long run_, he thought.

"Mah, oh, well," he mumbled.

"Seriously, Slick. Who's been fuckin' witchu?"

"It's cool, Unc. No big deal."

"Ya sure?"

"Yep. Don' drink that too fast," Gin said before sauntering back to the bar.

Rangiku was there waiting for him as he rounded the edge of the counter. "You know, if your uncle didn't look so damned scary, I'd try to ask him out," she said wistfully.

Gin rolled his eyes and snorted. "As if I haven't heard _that_ a million times. It ain't like ya don' know how he really is by now. Ya got no excuses."

He leaned against the liquor shelf and folded his arms over his chest, waiting for his best friend to chew him out because _she_ was too afraid to speak up.

"I can't do that, Gin-bo! He's _terrifying_! Not to mention he's like twenty years older than me!"

"And that matters how? Hell, even Hugh Hefner had chicks."

Rangiku opened her mouth to retort, but abruptly stopped, her eyes focused on the mirror behind Gin. He frowned, wondering what the hell she was looking at, only to have his internal question immediately answered. The door to the restaurant entrance swung open, admitting a tall figure dressed in a dark-blue coverall, black construction boots and a black cable knit hat. His blood-red hair was pulled into a long braid that hung over his right shoulder, and his russet eyes were locked on Gin's face. Gin refused to acknowledge the butterflies waging war in his gut as Renji drew closer. The man's face was utterly unreadable, and it just made Gin even more nervous.

Not that he'd show it.

Renji came to a stop in front of the bar counter and placed both hands on top of it. He lowered his eyes to the wooden surface for a few, long seconds before raising them and taking a visible, deep breath.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he finally asked, deep voice just as sinful as Gin remembered.

Before he totally lost himself in those soulful eyes, Gin had to remind himself that Renji had been the one to brush him off. He fixed his face until it was totally blank before he tilted his head.

"...So, talk already."

Renji sighed and ran a hand over his face before fixing Gin with a hard stare. "Alone."

Gin's eyebrows flew to the ceiling at the same time that Rangiku lifted her hands and backed away from the bar.

"Aaaaaannnnnd that's my cue. Later, Gin-bo," she said with a small wave and a wink.

He shook his head, but returned his focus to the man in front of him. Renji wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked like he hadn't slept in _years_ – forget days. Gin couldn't keep a frown from creasing his brows.

"Who died?" he asked.

Renji didn't say anything for a few moments; he just studied Gin's face, which, frankly, made the silver-haired man more than uncomfortable. Why was it that Renji's behavior was making Gin feel as though _he_ was the guilty party?

"Let's go somewhere else and talk," the red-haired man finally stated. "Please."

Well, how the hell could he say no?


End file.
